How high's the water, mama?Five feet high and risin'
How high's the water, papa?
Five feet high and risin'

Well, the rails are washed out north of town
We gotta head for higher ground
We can't come back till the water comes down,
Five feet high and risin'

Well, it's five feet high and risin'

{Johnny Cash: Five Feet High and Risin'}

Unless you've been stuck under a rock for the past few days, you know that it's a little...soggy...down here in the southeast. It's not so bad here in North Mississippi, although we did get stuck in Corinth yesterday when we were trying to get home from Starkville. Water flooded the main thoroughfare, and we were hardpressed to get through. We finally made it home, but only after we backtracked out of Corinth, drove south to Rienzi and turned east again.

I don't guess I'll be going to Kroger to do my grocery shopping this week. Or anytime soon.

It's wet down here. And at home. Home is Franklin, Tennessee, a suburb of Nashville.

Don't worry, my parents haven't floated away yet.

But that's only because they live at the top of a hill.

Seriously, though. Downtown Nashville is a mess. It's strange to see images of home flash across the news. It's going to be a long time before life is back to normal up there.

The buckets of rain that God poured on us over the weekend washed away most of our plans to watch Mississippi State play baseball, but we were able to get in some good eating at some of our favorite Starkville restaurants. We played with our niece and nephew and visited with the family. It was nice.

But I'm glad to be home. And I'm thankful that our house is nice, and safe and dry. No more travels for a while. Next time, people are coming to us.